Wednesday, April 25, 2007

We're all stressed out. So much work on. Feeling a bit distant from everyone. I really want some human contact, and keep hanging around with people, but its like being in a bubble. Everyone feels very far away.

Assignments due and progress:-

Group project presentation - done, final assesment on fri, need to swot for questions - due 28th April.

We're all stressed out. So much work on. Feeling a bit distant from everyone. I really want some human contact, and keep hanging around with people, but its like being in a bubble. Everyone feels very far away.

Assignments due and progress:-

Group project presentation - done, final assesment on fri, need to swot for questions - due 28th April.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

I did something I don't normally do today. I went to a church service. I say church service, but it was in Chaplaincy.

That's not the point.

Simon talked about the horrendous shootings at Virginia Tech. He talked about the welcome we had received at various churches. He talked about the reading from Acts 16v 1- 15 and renewing relationships after Easter.

I was sat there thinking that none of these topics seemed to be related.

However, then in a moment of what I can only describe as sublime, he linked the three together.

There are students here at Southampton, and no doubt in all universities, schools, and workplaces who are lonely. Not alone, I am alone at the moment but I am not lonely. I have friends I can reach via MSN or my mobile phone, or by popping down the road and round the corner. (Hey Andy!) My boyfriend and his housemates are 15 minutes walk away.

I am not lonely because I was lucky enough to be born with the ability to make friends easily.

There are people who find it hard to make friends, who find it hard to realate to people. They could be shy. They could have issues with their sele - esteem. They could think no one would want to spend time with them.

Simon mentioned that students who had been in the same hall as the gunman had expressed shock at what he had done. However they had also said that they barely knew him, that he was a "loner".

I used to be a bit of loner. Whilst I complete condemn the actions of this person, can understand how being lonely is unbearable. You have no one to talk to but the voices in your head. And they don't think straight. We need friends to be the objective sounding boards in our lives. To share our thoughts and feelings, our worries and hopes.

The link between Simon's three points is thus; in the spirit of renewing relationships, we should all take the time to reach out and welcome people. Renew our relationships with people we are already friends with, and with God if you believe in one, but also to try and make new friends.

Small things make the world. I can't say that the shooting would never had happenned. if the people in the halls of the gun man had reached out to him. I just don't know if that would have been true.

But it might have done.

Smiling at someone could save their life.

I'm endevouring to do little things for people. Just so they know they're loved.

This all sounds to twee and pretentious. I know though, that if people hadn't done this for me, I wouldn't be so happy as I am now. I know I'm worth something.

So thank you Chris for the lime with my Corona, the glow in the dark stars, the tulips, the turning up in the middle of the night when I need a hug.Thank you Andy for the cake on mondays and the time you bought tea and penguin biscuits up to Simon's office.Thank you Emma for the gossipping.Thank you Jess for the fudge.Thank you Karuna for playing the piano till three in the morning so I could sing.Thank you Simon for listening to me.Thank you Adam for putting Latin notes through my door.Thank you Rachel for the candle and teaching me how to write lists.Thank you Amy for tea and sympathy and curry and Eddie Izzard.Thank you Alex for telling me where the dimple above our lips comes from.And so on and so forth...

I did something I don't normally do today. I went to a church service. I say church service, but it was in Chaplaincy.

That's not the point.

Simon talked about the horrendous shootings at Virginia Tech. He talked about the welcome we had received at various churches. He talked about the reading from Acts 16v 1- 15 and renewing relationships after Easter.

I was sat there thinking that none of these topics seemed to be related.

However, then in a moment of what I can only describe as sublime, he linked the three together.

There are students here at Southampton, and no doubt in all universities, schools, and workplaces who are lonely. Not alone, I am alone at the moment but I am not lonely. I have friends I can reach via MSN or my mobile phone, or by popping down the road and round the corner. (Hey Andy!) My boyfriend and his housemates are 15 minutes walk away.

I am not lonely because I was lucky enough to be born with the ability to make friends easily.

There are people who find it hard to make friends, who find it hard to realate to people. They could be shy. They could have issues with their sele - esteem. They could think no one would want to spend time with them.

Simon mentioned that students who had been in the same hall as the gunman had expressed shock at what he had done. However they had also said that they barely knew him, that he was a "loner".

I used to be a bit of loner. Whilst I complete condemn the actions of this person, can understand how being lonely is unbearable. You have no one to talk to but the voices in your head. And they don't think straight. We need friends to be the objective sounding boards in our lives. To share our thoughts and feelings, our worries and hopes.

The link between Simon's three points is thus; in the spirit of renewing relationships, we should all take the time to reach out and welcome people. Renew our relationships with people we are already friends with, and with God if you believe in one, but also to try and make new friends.

Small things make the world. I can't say that the shooting would never had happenned. if the people in the halls of the gun man had reached out to him. I just don't know if that would have been true.

But it might have done.

Smiling at someone could save their life.

I'm endevouring to do little things for people. Just so they know they're loved.

This all sounds to twee and pretentious. I know though, that if people hadn't done this for me, I wouldn't be so happy as I am now. I know I'm worth something.

So thank you Chris for the lime with my Corona, the glow in the dark stars, the tulips, the turning up in the middle of the night when I need a hug.Thank you Andy for the cake on mondays and the time you bought tea and penguin biscuits up to Simon's office.Thank you Emma for the gossipping.Thank you Jess for the fudge.Thank you Karuna for playing the piano till three in the morning so I could sing.Thank you Simon for listening to me.Thank you Adam for putting Latin notes through my door.Thank you Rachel for the candle and teaching me how to write lists.Thank you Amy for tea and sympathy and curry and Eddie Izzard.Thank you Alex for telling me where the dimple above our lips comes from.And so on and so forth...

Monday, April 09, 2007

I went to Mass and it was interesting. I got to sing nice and loud, and Chris' mum, Brenda said I had a lovely voice. We had a huge and delicious lunch, with salmon to start and roast beef for the main, and champagne and they'd bought me an egg, and I had a lovely dress and wow. It's great here. I hope you all had a happy chocolate and eternal redemption day.

Today when I got up, Brenda was boiling eggs for us to paint. We then went and rolled these eggs down a hill at Petworth Park and deer watched. Very beautiful. Chinese for tea too!

I shall leave you with pictures. I am snuggled up on the sofa with Chris and so I don't feel like writing much. It's much too comfortable to think.

I went to Mass and it was interesting. I got to sing nice and loud, and Chris' mum, Brenda said I had a lovely voice. We had a huge and delicious lunch, with salmon to start and roast beef for the main, and champagne and they'd bought me an egg, and I had a lovely dress and wow. It's great here. I hope you all had a happy chocolate and eternal redemption day.

Today when I got up, Brenda was boiling eggs for us to paint. We then went and rolled these eggs down a hill at Petworth Park and deer watched. Very beautiful. Chinese for tea too!

I shall leave you with pictures. I am snuggled up on the sofa with Chris and so I don't feel like writing much. It's much too comfortable to think.

Friday, April 06, 2007

It is the Easter Holidays, and since I've had two weeks off doing nothing I'm now back to the grind stone preparing for the new term.

So far this has meant lots of reading for my course, "Gender and Society in France since 1789". Modern history, (yes anything after 1750 is considered modern in the world of academia) is not my favourite area of studying, having become an ancient historian during my time at uni. I find that there is too much material in modern history, so much is being written, that there is little room for my two pence worth.

However, one must find something that is of interest in any topic. Without that spark, its is nigh on impossible to write anything of worth or value to the marker. I have to engage with the topic so to speak. Anyway, I have found my niche and again it is in the abstracts of art, symbolism and feminism. The work title so far is, and brace yourself:

"The masculine universalism of French politics and its feminine manifestations in the visual arts."

Basically, the default position for most French political thought is masculine, (one could aslo argue, masculine and white), for example, the The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, not the declaration of the rights of people or human beings. However, the images of the French nation are predominately female, whether propagated by the republicans or royalists. Consider Marianne, Joan of Arc, the Goddesses of Liberty, les Petroleuses. I want to explore why women are chosen to represent a nation in which they do not recieve sufferage until 1945.

I think I just wrote the bare bones of my introduction there. I'm actually sat writing this in Worthing, using Chris' mum's new MacBook. It is very nice. We have come for the Easter weekend and I am finally going to see Chris play his violin at church on Sunday. Chris' mum is Catholic, so it is going to be interesting to observe a Catholic service. I've never been to one before. I hope the music is good. I love church music.

We had a lovely train ride down. Along the south coast the view alternates from marinas and rivers to industrial parks to voyeuristic snippets of people's back gardens when the traintracks run through a town. We're hopefully off to Brighton tomorrow.

Finally some pictures.Me all of five minutes ago.

A picture I've started in oil pastels of my Uncles and cousins. Comissions taken !

It is the Easter Holidays, and since I've had two weeks off doing nothing I'm now back to the grind stone preparing for the new term.

So far this has meant lots of reading for my course, "Gender and Society in France since 1789". Modern history, (yes anything after 1750 is considered modern in the world of academia) is not my favourite area of studying, having become an ancient historian during my time at uni. I find that there is too much material in modern history, so much is being written, that there is little room for my two pence worth.

However, one must find something that is of interest in any topic. Without that spark, its is nigh on impossible to write anything of worth or value to the marker. I have to engage with the topic so to speak. Anyway, I have found my niche and again it is in the abstracts of art, symbolism and feminism. The work title so far is, and brace yourself:

"The masculine universalism of French politics and its feminine manifestations in the visual arts."

Basically, the default position for most French political thought is masculine, (one could aslo argue, masculine and white), for example, the The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, not the declaration of the rights of people or human beings. However, the images of the French nation are predominately female, whether propagated by the republicans or royalists. Consider Marianne, Joan of Arc, the Goddesses of Liberty, les Petroleuses. I want to explore why women are chosen to represent a nation in which they do not recieve sufferage until 1945.

I think I just wrote the bare bones of my introduction there. I'm actually sat writing this in Worthing, using Chris' mum's new MacBook. It is very nice. We have come for the Easter weekend and I am finally going to see Chris play his violin at church on Sunday. Chris' mum is Catholic, so it is going to be interesting to observe a Catholic service. I've never been to one before. I hope the music is good. I love church music.

We had a lovely train ride down. Along the south coast the view alternates from marinas and rivers to industrial parks to voyeuristic snippets of people's back gardens when the traintracks run through a town. We're hopefully off to Brighton tomorrow.

Finally some pictures.Me all of five minutes ago.

A picture I've started in oil pastels of my Uncles and cousins. Comissions taken !

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Breakfast was sumptious on both days. We started with fruit salad, croissants and yogurt. The first day both Chris and I had the full english, and the next I had buttermilk pancakes. The proprietoress, being American had a wicked recipe for these. Chris and I were brave and ate our slices of Black Pudding. This for those who don't know, is a British delicacy of a sausage made from pig's blood and some type of grain. It was actually quite nice. We had freshed brewed coffee and toast as well, which all went down well over the morning papers. :)

We got the bus to Newport, the County town of the IoW. It's the hib of the bus network, and so we could go on to any over part of Island from there. After some running around the huge Marks and Sparks for salad, we got the bus onto Shanklin.

Shanklin is a little seaside town, with a quaint old village and the usual British seaside tat. I wanted to wlk down the magical chine, but it was shut, so we climbed to the top of the hill, and looked into it instead. On that hill, chris and I ate our picnic, mused on life and what to put on postcards, and admired the view. It was fantastic.

We strolled along the seafront, had delicious ice cream apiece, cherry and kirch forme, and ginger for Chris. The aim was to walk to Sandown, another seaside downonly a little down the coast. Half way inbetween we had a little paddle as it was so warm, and Chris took pictures of his feet. We also encountered a charming art installation hung on a fence, it was giant xyolphone blocks painted with the words of "oh I do like to be beside the seaside." When struck with a stick, they were pitched to the right notes as to play the tune. Such fun!

At Newport we had noticed a cycle route marked '8 miles to Sandown.' and Chris suggested walking instead of taking the bus. I disagreed and said we should walk home instead. Which we attempted to do. After much searching of maps in the tourist information, we found the cycle path and began our walk in the late afternoon sun. Much of the old railway lines on the Island are now cycle routes and you can reach every major town. It was very picturesque, with wild rabbits leaping over the path, ducks and geese on the river and beautiful scenery.

I was beat after 4 miles along the track and begged Chris to let us get the bus. As it was dusk and Chris was getting hugry he agreed, and we caught the bus in the middle of nowhere, back to Newport. From there it was a sleepy bus ride to Cowes. We had dinner in a very empty Indian restaurant, having deciding against the pub where we orignally intended to eat. Rather than wasting holiday money on pub grub we went all out. Poppadoms and dips, lamb rogan josh for me, Duck in a creamy sauce for Chris, spiced aubergines, garlic naan and pilau rice, followed by a mango kulfi ice cream. We felt a bit odd because the waiters were verypeturbed to be disturbed by us, but the food was great.

The final day saw us again breakfasting in style, bidding a sad sad goodbye to the lovely room and trundling off with our back packs. We were going to go to Osbourne House, the summer palace of Queen Victoria, but were put off by the £9.50 entrance fee.

Instead, we walked slowly down the hill, had another go on the train ferry and re walked the seafront walk of our first morning. There was tea and teacakes in a very quaint cafe that a had a toy train running around the room. It also had a noisy and odd but witty owner, who told Chris off for choking on his tea. Then there was more lovely ice cream. Peach and Mango and Ginger this time. The funny guy behind the counter liked Chris' Google t shirt, and spent the hours between customers this early in season apparently googling his own name.

In order to kill more time before our ferry, we bought a paper, two pints of real ale and a bowl of onions rings in waterside pub. Watching the boats, commenting on society and me giving Chris a crash course in drawing saw us through till we had to get the boat.

Breakfast was sumptious on both days. We started with fruit salad, croissants and yogurt. The first day both Chris and I had the full english, and the next I had buttermilk pancakes. The proprietoress, being American had a wicked recipe for these. Chris and I were brave and ate our slices of Black Pudding. This for those who don't know, is a British delicacy of a sausage made from pig's blood and some type of grain. It was actually quite nice. We had freshed brewed coffee and toast as well, which all went down well over the morning papers. :)

We got the bus to Newport, the County town of the IoW. It's the hib of the bus network, and so we could go on to any over part of Island from there. After some running around the huge Marks and Sparks for salad, we got the bus onto Shanklin.

Shanklin is a little seaside town, with a quaint old village and the usual British seaside tat. I wanted to wlk down the magical chine, but it was shut, so we climbed to the top of the hill, and looked into it instead. On that hill, chris and I ate our picnic, mused on life and what to put on postcards, and admired the view. It was fantastic.

We strolled along the seafront, had delicious ice cream apiece, cherry and kirch forme, and ginger for Chris. The aim was to walk to Sandown, another seaside downonly a little down the coast. Half way inbetween we had a little paddle as it was so warm, and Chris took pictures of his feet. We also encountered a charming art installation hung on a fence, it was giant xyolphone blocks painted with the words of "oh I do like to be beside the seaside." When struck with a stick, they were pitched to the right notes as to play the tune. Such fun!

At Newport we had noticed a cycle route marked '8 miles to Sandown.' and Chris suggested walking instead of taking the bus. I disagreed and said we should walk home instead. Which we attempted to do. After much searching of maps in the tourist information, we found the cycle path and began our walk in the late afternoon sun. Much of the old railway lines on the Island are now cycle routes and you can reach every major town. It was very picturesque, with wild rabbits leaping over the path, ducks and geese on the river and beautiful scenery.

I was beat after 4 miles along the track and begged Chris to let us get the bus. As it was dusk and Chris was getting hugry he agreed, and we caught the bus in the middle of nowhere, back to Newport. From there it was a sleepy bus ride to Cowes. We had dinner in a very empty Indian restaurant, having deciding against the pub where we orignally intended to eat. Rather than wasting holiday money on pub grub we went all out. Poppadoms and dips, lamb rogan josh for me, Duck in a creamy sauce for Chris, spiced aubergines, garlic naan and pilau rice, followed by a mango kulfi ice cream. We felt a bit odd because the waiters were verypeturbed to be disturbed by us, but the food was great.

The final day saw us again breakfasting in style, bidding a sad sad goodbye to the lovely room and trundling off with our back packs. We were going to go to Osbourne House, the summer palace of Queen Victoria, but were put off by the £9.50 entrance fee.

Instead, we walked slowly down the hill, had another go on the train ferry and re walked the seafront walk of our first morning. There was tea and teacakes in a very quaint cafe that a had a toy train running around the room. It also had a noisy and odd but witty owner, who told Chris off for choking on his tea. Then there was more lovely ice cream. Peach and Mango and Ginger this time. The funny guy behind the counter liked Chris' Google t shirt, and spent the hours between customers this early in season apparently googling his own name.

In order to kill more time before our ferry, we bought a paper, two pints of real ale and a bowl of onions rings in waterside pub. Watching the boats, commenting on society and me giving Chris a crash course in drawing saw us through till we had to get the boat.